


Killing Time

by SuburbanSun



Category: Superstore (TV)
Genre: Banter, Boredom, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21826093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: There are no customers to be found, and Mateo and Cheyenne pass the time with a game of Fuck/Marry/Kill. When Dina wants to join, it gets a little awkward.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 57
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Killing Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all_these_ghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_these_ghosts/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, all_these_ghosts!

“I’m so bored I could literally scream,” Cheyenne said, slumping to lean her elbows on the Vision Center countertop. Mateo glanced at her over his shoulder, then went back straightening the frames that lined the wall. No sense in leaving them untidy, even if there wasn’t a customer in sight.

“What’s stopping you?"

“The last time I screamed in the store, when I thought I’d lost my favorite lip gloss, Amy stuck me in the sporting goods section for a week.” She rested her chin on her hand and sighed. “Hardly anybody goes there! I found the lip gloss, but do your lips really shine if there’s nobody around to see it?” 

He reached up to adjust the highest pair of glasses— _there, perfect—_ then turned to join her at the counter. “Are you kidding me? Sporting goods was my favorite place to hide out when I didn’t feel like working.”

“‘Til that one guy asked you to recommend your favorite brand of basketballs, and you handed him a football.”

Mateo glared at her. “That was _not_ my fault. I was deliberately giving off non-sporty vibes, and he sought me out anyway.” 

Cheyenne nodded solemnly. “You _are_ really good at giving off vibes.” 

“Take right now, for instance. I’m radiating vibes of complete and utter boredom.” He peered out into the store, which was still nearly devoid of customers. “What’s the deal? Did everyone in this town suddenly stop needing off-brand khakis and bulk toilet paper?” 

“I don’t know, but I have four more hours left on my shift, and I swear time is going slower than usual today.” She gasped, smacking her palms on the glass of the counter and making Mateo jump. He was going to have to wipe it down to get rid of her fingerprints, he just knew it. “I know! Let’s play a game!”

He quirked an eyebrow. “How can we play Customer Fashion Police without any customers?”

“Another game. Ooh, like giant Jenga!” 

“Pretty sure the toy section only stocks regular Jenga.” 

Cheyenne deflated. “Well, maybe if we stocked _giant_ Jenga, we would actually have some _customers_.” 

“Ooh, how about Fuck/Marry/Kill?” he suggested, swiping a rag from beneath the counter where her hands had been. “It’s been awhile since we did that.” 

“Yeah!” She pulled a tiny glasses screwdriver from its display case and started to idly twirl it between her fingers. “Okay, I’ll start. Fuck/Marry/Kill… Brad Pitt, Adam Driver, and the kid from Home Alone, but now that he’s grown up.” 

Mateo pursed his lips. “Please. You just know Macaulay Culkin is a freak in bed. Marry Adam. Sorry, Brad, but it’s not 1994 anymore.” 

“Okay, now you go.”

“No, it's too boring when it’s that unattainable. We can still use customers even if they’re not currently _in_ the store.” He tapped his chin. “Let’s do… the weird guy who only ever buys birdseed, the really tall lady who always tries to return half-empty jugs of milk, and that one mime who came in last week who nobody could figure out what he was looking for.” 

Cheyenne scrunched up her nose and cocked her head to the side. “Yeah, what _was_ he looking for?” 

“It was either an ice cream scooper or a bow and arrow, but we could never tell. He should probably stick to ordering online.” 

“Yeah, definitely kill the mime.” 

“Who’re we killing?” came Dina’s voice from behind Cheyenne, and both she and Mateo stood up straighter. 

“We’re not _actually_ killing anybody, Dina. We’re just passing the time by playing Fuck/Marry/Kill with some celebrities.” 

“And mimes,” Cheyenne chimed in. 

Dina frowned, setting the clipboard she’d been carrying on the countertop and leaning on it with one elbow. Mateo scowled— he’d _just_ polished that spot of glass before they’d come over. “You killed the mime, right?” she asked, her tone urgent. When they both nodded, she sighed in relief. “Good. I’ve never met a mime I liked, not since I took that clowning class and one of them tried to lock me in a box with him. I mean, I’m not claustrophobic or anything, but it’s just rude to lock someone into an imaginary box with you without their consent.” 

Mateo and Cheyenne shared a look. It was typically easier to just agree with Dina. “Uh, yeah, for sure,” Cheyenne said. 

“So anyway,” Dina said, shaking her head and smiling. “Who are we doing next? I’ll play.”

“Um, that’s okay,” Mateo said, before grabbing the spray bottle of industrial strength window cleaner hanging on a hook under the counter. He spritzed a spot on the glass countertop, then rubbed at it with his rag. Maybe they’d take the hint and keep their grubby hands and elbows off it.

“No, seriously, I love games. I’m great at them,” Dina insisted. “Lay one on me.” 

“Okay…” Cheyenne thought for a moment, then grinned. “Chris Pine, Chris Evans, and Chris Hemsworth!” 

Dina furrowed her brow. “I would… kill all of them, I guess. Is that an option? It’s just, they’re all a little below my standards, you know? And they say that mismatched levels of attractiveness is the cause of something like 80% of divorces.” 

“Yeah, that’s not really how the game works, Dina,” Mateo said, though he knew it was futile. _Oh well_. At least Dina provided more entertainment than an empty store. 

“Well, it should be. Hit me again.” 

“Uh…how ‘bout...” Cheyenne began, but Mateo spotted Garrett wheeling towards them and narrowed his eyes. _This could make things a little more interesting._

“Let’s do Cloud 9 employees," he interrupted. "Fuck/Marry/Kill… Jonah, Marcus, and Garrett.” 

Dina frowned, leaning on the glass countertop with both elbows again (and likely ruining Mateo’s pristine work). “Hmm. That’s a tough one. On the one hand, Jonah and I used to have so much sexual tension, but it all kind of fizzled. Then there’s Marcus, who is _traditionally_ handsome, if you like that sort of thing. And then there’s Garrett, who, let’s be honest, been there, done that.”

Behind Dina, Garrett made a face. Mateo suppressed a laugh.

“And then there’s the fact that I couldn’t do that to Amy,” Dina continued. “Steal Jonah away from her and the kids and all that. Nah. Better just kill him. Then what the hell— I’d eff Marcus, and… yeah, marry Garrett. He’d probably make the best husband out of the three of them, anyway,” she finished with a decisive nod of her head.

Garrett rolled closer to them with a lopsided grin on his face. “Aw, Dina, I’m touched.” Dina spun around, eyes wide, and Mateo and Cheyenne exchanged gleeful looks. 

“Look, I don’t know what you _think_ you heard…” she began, but Garrett just shook his head, still smirking.

“I didn’t get you a ring, or anything, but…” He raked a hand through the blue plastic Cloud 9 basket full of go-backs he held on his lap, then pulled out a yellow bag. “I do have these Flamin’ Hot Funyons. I guess that’ll have to do.” 

Dina picked up her clipboard with a scowl, turning to leave. “I didn’t say I _wanted_ to marry you. Just that, given the alternatives, if forced to do so by the parameters of the game, I _would_.” 

Garrett just shook his head, tossed the Funyons back in the basket, and followed her away from the Vision Center. “I'm picturing a spring wedding; I think I’d look great in a tux with lavender accents, don’t you?” 

“We’re not getting married, Garrett.” 

“Maybe our reception could be in the Garden Center? Ooh, we can use our employee discount for the flowers!” 

Dina stopped in the aisle, looking thoughtful. “That’s smart, actually; the wedding floral industry is such a racket.” She shook her head dismissively, then kept walking. “But also, no!”

Garrett just chuckled and kept following behind her, their bickering fading into the distance as they rounded the corner into Housewares. 

“Well. That was fun,” Mateo said, spraying down the counter where Dina’s elbows had been and wiping it until it gleamed. “How much time is left in your shift now?” 

Cheyenne slipped her phone out of her back pocket to check the time, then groaned. “Three hours and fifty minutes.” 

Time really _was_ moving slower, wasn’t it? Mateo closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, though, he noticed motion at the front of the store, and he brightened. 

“Ooh, ooh, Birdseed Guy at 3 o’clock!”

Cheyenne spun around to see where Mateo was looking, and beamed. “And he’s wearing a _cowboy hat!_ ” 

“Customer Fashion Police, reporting for duty,” Mateo said, high-fiving her across the counter. Maybe the next three hours and fifty minutes wouldn’t take quite so long, after all.


End file.
